


We pick and choose our battles

by Flyting



Series: Interrogator!Ben/Hux [4]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bamf Kalonia, M/M, Medical Procedures, Prisoner Hux, all the Hux snark, resistance ben solo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 03:44:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7602079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flyting/pseuds/Flyting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another of the series of light follow-ups to <i>Breaking Down Like Fractions</i>. Ben Solo is the Resistance's interrogator of last resort. General Hux is their prized captive. Following the interrogation, Ben is tasked with taking the prisoner on a routine visit to the base doctor.</p><p>  <i>“Are there any other complaints I should know about?” Kalonia asks.</i></p><p>  <i>“The pains in my arse are legion at the moment.” </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	We pick and choose our battles

**Author's Note:**

> So I finally, officially have a substantial, significantly less lighthearted sequel to _Breaking Down Like Fractions_ in the works, which will be called _The Sinners and the Saints_.
> 
> In the meantime, here is another shortfic in the hopes that you won't completely hate me for taking forever with it. Depression and RL have been conspiring to make it hard to write lately, but I have roughly ten-thousand more words planned for this series.

“How are you feeling, general?” Doctor Kalonia has Hux’s chin pinched in her strong, bony fingers. The general is sitting, his legs crossed primly at the ankles and hands folded neatly in his lap, on the small room's only exam table. She turns his head from side to side as she points a handheld scanner at his left eye, then his right, manhandling their prisoner with the same cool efficiency she used on Resistance soldiers.

Ben slouches back against a narrow strip of wall in between two hulking pieces of equipment he doesn’t have names for. He has to hunch his shoulders to make himself small enough to fit between them, but it’s the only safe spot he’s found; Doctor Kalonia has already barked at him for sitting on the edge of her desk and leveled him with a scathing glare for trying to lean on one of the machines.

“As well as can be expected,” Hux answers, matching her neutral tone. Ben thinks it’s like watching two glaciers have a staring contest.

“Any dizziness? Nausea?”

“No dizziness. Nausea, yes. But they fed me that watery egg scramble from your cantina this morning.”

Unamused, she says, “Somehow, I think you’ll survive. How are you sleeping?”

“Fine.” He does not look at Ben, whose hands are in the pockets of his flight jacket to keep them from fidgeting.

Ben hates the medical bay. All the sharp things and mysterious bags of fluids and unidentifiable but infinitely fragile machines make him uncomfortable. He hates the way it somehow manages to smell exactly the same- like a mix of sanispray and despair- no matter what planet their base is on.

“The good news is, I don’t see any signs of lingering neural damage.” Her voice is slow, expressionless. Ben shifts uncomfortably anyway. “Are there any other complaints I should know about?” Kalonia asks.

“The pains in my arse are legion at the moment.”

“I can’t help you with those.”

“Pity.” Ben snorts at his mock despair, fighting a smirk. At least it wasn’t just him the general tried to play the smartass with.

Just then, the piece of equipment to Ben’s left hums as an internal fan engages. He backs away from it on instinct, holding up his hands defensively to show he hasn’t touched it. He's known Doctor Kalonia for years. She is the only person on this base aside from his mother who has the power to make him feel like a messy little boy, trailing destruction wherever he goes. Maybe because he only ever sees her when he’s done something stupid.

When she looks at him, he can just sense images- memories- of bloody knuckles and black eyes, split lips and jagged blaster wounds flitting around in the corner of her mind.

The machine lets out a musical little chime and lines of text in heavily abbreviated Basic begin to scroll across its screen. Shooing Ben out of the way with a little flick of her hand, Kalonia crosses to the screen, manipulating the lines of text with a practiced hand. He drifts around until he is standing behind the exam table. 

“Well, your bloodwork seems fine.” The doctor hums through her teeth. “Although your vitamin D levels are very low, general.”

Ben gets a fleeting sense of embarrassment from Hux, as though he’s irritated at having forgotten. “What? Oh, yes, I normally take a supplement.”

The doctor hums again. “Take him outside at least every other day. Let him get some sun,” she says to Ben, adding with what is in his opinion unnecessary force, “Under _close supervision_.” She casts an appraising eye over the ginger’s fair skin, with it’s ghosting of pale freckles and the spiderweb of blue veins visible just beneath. “A few minutes should be plenty.”

The general’s lip twinges distastefully, as though the idea of _going outside_ is some outdated barbaric custom that he wants no part of, “Why can’t you just give me a stim shot?”

“Because we’re low enough on vitamin supplements as it is without me wasting them on you. Not when there’s a free option available just outside,” Doctor Kalonia says calmly. She gives him a wry smile. “You can thank yourself for that. The First Order has been putting pressure on the New Republic for months not to engage in trade with _terrorists_ while you simultaneously blockade all our other supply routes. I haven’t been able to get so much as a bacta pad that wasn’t smuggled through half a dozen checkpoints.”

“In that case, I’m pleased to see it’s working,” Hux says, his eyes bright. “It’s so nice to see firsthand the fruits of your labor.”

“Say that again when you break a bone and I have to set it without anesthesia.”

“Do you have to do that often? Oh dear.” His voice is brimming with mock pity.

Rolling his eyes, Ben grabs a fistful of Hux’s shirt and tugs him down off the exam table.  “Come on general, playdate’s over.” Hux frowns but doesn’t struggle as Ben locks his arms behind his back with a pair of binders, unthinkingly sliding his fingers between the smooth metal and the soft skin of Hux’s wrists to test that they aren’t too tight.

“Thank you, doctor,” Ben drones out of habit, a lifetime of his mother’s urging to _be polite to the doctor, say thank you Ben_ having leeched into his bones at this point.  
  
"Yes, _thank you doctor,"_ Hux echoes, mocking. Ben points him towards the door, one hand holding his shirt at the shoulder and the other on the binders, and gives him a just slightly less-than-gentle nudge with the Force to get him to walk under his own power.

“If those pains in your ass act up again general, please let me know.” Doctor Kalonia says after them. Hux pauses, craning his neck back over his shoulder to watch as the doctor pulls a red plastic bag, like a hot water bottle, and a length of tubing out of a drawer on her cart and sets them on the exam table. Hux swallows, his throat bobbing. “On second thought, I do have something for it.”

Ben didn’t think it was possible for the general’s already pale face to blanch any whiter, but somehow he manages it.

**Author's Note:**

> All titles are lines from _Hamilton_. The quote, "The pains in my arse are legion at the moment," comes from an old Harry Potter fanfiction called _Anomie_. It's always stuck in my head.


End file.
